Love, Lies, and Hocus Pocus Allies

by Lydia Sherrer

  “That went well,” Sir Kipling observed.

  “I can’t do this,” Lily moaned.

  “Then I suggest you research prison security, because our next option is to break Sebastian out by mischief and magic.”

  “Uunngg.”

  “That last time I checked, ‘ung’ was not in the dictionary. Pray tell, what does it mean?”

  Lily finally sat up, giving her cat the eyebrow. “Last time you checked, huh? For your information, it means keep your snarky comments to yourself.”

  “Ah. It’s all so clear now.” He yawned.

  Despite everything, Lily couldn’t help but smile. After all, what were cats for if not to rescue you from your own self-pity through the liberal application of snark? She tried to remember how she’d gotten by before Sir Kipling could express himself in such salubrious detail. Cat owners around the world had no idea what they were missing.

  With a last groan, she hauled herself off the couch and began preparations for her and Richard’s “talk.”

  When Richard arrived an hour later, Lily was tired, but ready. She wore a conservative business suit—just so there’d be no confusion as to her intentions—and had ordered Sir Kipling to watch the man like a hawk, even following him into the bathroom if need be. Not that her cat needed to be told, but it was nice to have him follow orders for once.

  She knew the moment the agent arrived, alerted by her cat’s pricked ears and soft meow. Opening the door, she motioned him in without a word or glance, noting that he, too, wore a business suit—normal FBI attire. Well, it was nice to know where they both stood.

  “Have a seat, Agent Grant,” she said, sitting at her desk and swiveling the chair so that she faced him. When she finally looked at him, she was taken aback at how miserable he seemed. While her initial reaction was pity, she stiffened her resolve, refusing to give in.

  But as she opened her mouth to begin her prepared speech, Richard raised a hand, stopping her.

  “Before you say anything, I want to apologize,” he said, voice filled with solemnity, not the pleading she’d expected. “While I promise that everything I did was to try and protect you, I realize I went about it in a very…improper way. I’m very, very sorry for hurting you.”

  Lily stared levelly at him, considering his words. Inside she vacillated from intense relief to stubborn ire, unsure which should win. She finally settled on something in the middle. “In my family, if one of us wronged another, we were expected to admit, verbally, that we were wrong, and ask the other’s forgiveness. Simply being ‘sorry’ was not enough. You can be sorry all you wanted—sorry you’ve been caught—yet still be unrepentant and unchanged.” She said this without emotion, as though giving a report on the weather. Yet her intent was clear.

  Richard cleared his throat, looking away. Lily watched him closely, wondering if he would choose the high road or the easy one.

  “I was—wrong. Wrong for misleading you and taking advantage of your trust. Will you—” He paused, mouth tightening ever so slightly. But then he let out his breath, shoulders loosening. “Will you forgive me?”

  Despite herself, Lily was impressed. She felt a tight knot of anxiety loosen inside. Whatever else she thought of Richard, he certainly had a sense of honor, at least when he was called out. That boded well, since he could potentially use what she was about to tell him to ruin her and her whole family. Not just her family, the whole wizard race.

  “I forgive you,” She stated simply, businesslike.

  Richard heaved a deep sigh of relief, face breaking out in a tentative smile “Thank you, I—”

  But Lily held up her hand, as he had, cutting him off. “I wasn’t finished. I forgive you because you had the humility to ask, because it is the right thing to do, and because the stakes are too high for any animosity to remain between us. However, I have no interest in anything but a working relationship. Treat me as a fellow professional and we will get along fine. I asked you to my house because of some very sensitive, dangerous things I have to show you, not because I wanted you to…renew your addresses to me.” She pursed her lips, then continued.

  “I am putting a great deal of trust in your skill as an FBI agent and your dedication to justice. I’m trusting you to not take advantage of the information I give you to further your own career, or earn points with your superiors. I promise to speak the whole truth if you promise to treat my secrets as your secrets. I promise to give you information you can use to take down John Faust. But first I have to show you…something. Something you can never tell a soul. Do you understand me? Do you promise to keep my trust?” Asking that last question she forced herself to look him straight in the eye, unflinching. It was terribly difficult, and her insides felt like they’d turned to a quivering pile of jelly.

  The strange thing was, Richard wasn’t reacting like she’d expected. At the beginning of her speech, he looked extremely uncomfortable. But by the time she got to the part about showing him something he could never tell a soul, his shoulders seemed to relax and his expression eased.

  When she finished, he gave her a wan smile and nodded, though she noted he didn’t hold her gaze for very long. “Of course,” he said.

  Lily sat, stunned. This seemed too easy.

  “Of course, what?” She asked, suspicious.

  “Of course I won’t tell a soul. You can trust me.” He smiled again, brighter this time like he was putting some effort into it.

  “Are you sure? Doesn’t this break some sort of FBI oath or something?”

  He seemed confused for a moment, then he backtracked. “I mean, if you were a criminal it would be different, of course. But you’re not. You’re a good person, Li—Miss Singer. I know you’d never do anything illegal.”

  “Well,” she said slowly, thinking hard, “I’ve seen people do some pretty terrible things. People I thought were decent.” Richard squirmed at her words, looking away. “I have to be sure you’re serious, that you’re really hearing what I’m saying. Nobody can ever know what I’m about to show you. Not your partner, not your superiors, no one. If you tell anyone it could get me and a lot of other people killed.”

  The FBI agent finally looked her in the eye. Really looked at her. “I know I don’t deserve your trust, but I would never, ever do anything to hurt you. I promise, I won’t tell anyone.”

  Lily sat back, considering his words. She believed that he believed himself to be trustworthy. But he’d already proved once that what he thought was protecting her wasn’t exactly the most pleasant of experiences. Kind of like Sebastian.

  Why did men always think the best way to protect her was to lie to her? Did all men do it or just the ones in her acquaintance? Suddenly unsure of herself, Lily started to rethink her decision to let Richard in on the whole “wizard” secret. She’d relied on her instincts before, and where had it gotten her? Could she even trust herself anymore? But it was too late to back out now, and how else was she going to get Sebastian out of prison?

  “Good grief. Why do I always have to save your proverbial bacon? It’s positively exhausting.” With a protracted meow that startled them both, Sir Kipling appeared from wherever he’d been lurking. He jumped up on the couch and gave Richard a long, evaluating stare. Then, with a flick of his ears and a twitch of his fluffy tail, he slowly and deliberately climbed onto the man’s lap, stretched, and curled up, purring.

  Richard glanced at her with a startled look, as if he didn’t know what to do about the fur-ball of cuteness that had just inserted itself into his personal space.

  Unable to help herself, Lily laughed. “You now have Sir Kipling’s vote of confidence. And let me tell you, he gives it out few and far between. I’m surprised, considering he was about to buzz-saw your face off the other day.”

  “Tell me about it,” Richard muttered, tentatively stroking Sir Kipling’s soft grey fur. Her cat—a complete pushover when he needed to be—mewed contentedly and rolled to present his tummy for further adoration. Lily arched an eyebrow in sur
prise. Her cat was systematically wrapping Richard around his furry paw, that sneaky little snipe. It just went to prove that every dog person was just a cat person who hadn’t yet met the right cat.

  Staring at the two of them, Lily finally made her decision. Right or wrong, she didn’t know. But if Sir Kipling thought it was a good idea, at least they’d be in it together. She cleared her throat. “Not to interrupt your make-out session over there, gentlemen, but we have important things to discuss.”

  Sir Kipling gave her a lazy-eyed stare, completely unconcerned about important things while his belly was being rubbed. Richard looked up with a startled, guilty expression on his face, as if he’d just been caught doing something unmanly. He gave her a pleading look, glancing back and forth between her and her conniving feline in desperation. “Um, how do I get him off my lap? Please?”

  Lily smiled. “Normally I would say ‘you don’t.’ But since you asked nicely…” She gave her cat a pointed look. “Shoo.”

  Grumbling, Sir Kipling rolled over and off his victim’s lap, landing on his feet and sauntering unhurriedly to a corner of the room where he began the long process of straightening all his mussed fur. Lily had no doubt that he would demand more pettings later, playing the “you owe me” card.

  “So…?” Richard asked, letting the question dangle.

  “Yes, um, so…” Lily said tingling with apprehension. How was he going to take learning about magic? At the very least, they already had an established relationship where he saw her as an intelligent, educated person. That should help. Or else confuse the heck out of him. She’d thought long and hard about how to explain it and, after giving herself a splitting headache, had decided to just be blunt and straightforward. Either he would believe her or he wouldn’t.

  Here goes nothing, she thought, and straightened her back to give Richard a level look. “Agent Grant, I am a wizard, as are my father, my mother, and many others in our world. Magic is real, and, while most wizards go to great lengths to keep to themselves and never cause trouble, there are, unfortunately, exceptions.” Richard’s eyebrows rose higher and higher, almost disappearing into his hairline. But she kept going.

  “Magic is not some supernatural hocus pocus. You can’t wave a wand, say some silly word and make a pineapple tap-dance across your desk. It is science, though our understanding of it is severely limited. Most wizards are not concerned with how it works, simply that it does. But to give you my best explanation, magic is energy, which some people are genetically predisposed to manipulate through word and will. We’ve spent millennia trying to avoid mundane notice—excuse me, mundane is the word we use for anyone non-magical—and I am breaking a cardinal rule by telling you all this. Unfortunately, I feel I don’t have a choice. My father isn’t just a petty criminal, he is a brilliant and powerful wizard with plans that could…”—she hesitated, unsure how much to tell Richard at this juncture—“prove harmful to mundanes.

  “Since we both want him stopped, I propose an alliance. Myself and my friends, along with you and the FBI. You would be the liaison and sole keeper of our secret. I know this is asking much, but I hope you see that the only way forward is together.”

  Finally finished with her speech, she closed her mouth with a snap and waited, tense as a wound-up spring. She couldn’t decide by the wrinkle of his forehead or arch of his brows if he was incredulous, flabbergasted, or both. She wished he would say something.

  “Um…okay…” He finally got out. His expression leaned toward incredulous. Lily was sure that if they hadn’t had deep and intellectual discussions on multiple occasions, he would have immediately written her off as insane. Though of course he would have tried to be polite about it.

  Sighing, she stood. “It’s alright. No one could reasonably expect you to believe me without proof. What do you want to see me do?”

  “Can you fly?” came his half-amused reply.

  “Not in the manner you are imagining,” Lily smiled ruefully. “There are levitation spells that involve creating pockets of neutral gravity, but I’ve never done them before and would need much practice to do it safely. One misconception that you should get straight right away is that magic is dangerous and requires years of careful study to control. There are simple spells that are easier to master, but when you’re channeling vast amounts of energy, a lot of things can go wrong if you aren’t good at what you do.”

  “Lovely,” Richard muttered, looking green. “Okay, what about something simple? Can you, um, make a ball of fire?”

  “If I want to singe my house, perhaps. How about this: I’ve crafted my light switches to respond to commands, since mundane friends might start asking questions if I outfitted my house with light orbs.”

  Lily took a calming breath, focusing her connection to the Source, and spoke a word of Enkinim. The light switch on the wall flipped down and the room darkened. She spoke another word and it flipped back up, illuminating Richard’s skeptical face.

  “Cute, but you could just have voice-activated lights.”

  She rolled her eyes. “That’s exactly what I do have, Agent Grant. Don’t think about magic as some unknowable force that defies the laws of nature. Magic is part of nature. It is simply science you mundanes can’t yet explain. Perhaps, some day, wizards and mundanes will live in harmony, and every facet of magic will be scientifically understood. I don’t know, and I doubt it would be wise to try and tell the world about it, since mundanes tend to fear things they don’t understand and have a long history of burning us at the stake.”

  That sobered him up, and Richard started to look less flippant and more thoughtful.

  Lily continued. “You use voice recognition software made of tiny metal chips and controlled by a series of zeros and ones. I use metal inlaid runes imprinted to respond to certain verbal commands when stimulated by my channeling of magic, which in very simple terms is just energy.”

  “So…you’re like an alien with advanced technology?” he asked, attempting a smile.

  “Hardly,” Lily said, pursing her lips. “Wizards are genetically identical to homo sapiens, we just have an extra gene—or so my father believes—that gives us the ability to sense and manipulate magic.”

  “Your father?”

  “Yes, my father is researching wizard genetics. I told you, he is very intelligent and powerful, and not to be trifled with.” Lily took a deep breath, steeling herself to go on. “He is, as I believe your investigation has guessed, one and the same as Rex Morganson. Though I was not familiar with that alias until recently, he admitted to me in person that he was behind at least one of the crimes you are investigating Rex Morganson for. Of course, I should have known right away that it was him, what with a name like Rex Morganson.”

  “But—wait, what?” Richard said, sidetracked from demanding some sort of information.

  Lily sighed. “My father has a dramatic flair, and is, I believe, an unadulterated megalomaniac.” She squeezed her eyes shut, embarrassed and hoping Richard didn’t laugh. “He believes we are descended from Morgan le Fay and is quite fond of the name. I suspect Rex, which means ‘king’ in Latin, is just more evidence of his narcissism.”

  When Richard didn’t make a sound, laughing or otherwise, she cracked an eyelid to check on him. He was staring into space, a distracted look on his face.

  “Shouldn’t you be, I don’t know, taking notes or something?” She asked, suddenly annoyed.

  “Oh! Yes, of course.” He pulled out a pad from his pocket and started scribbling furiously, apparently content to use her information as an excuse to delay wrapping his mind around the question of magic.

  He looked up. “And would you be willing to wear a wire so we can get that confession on record?” His tone had turned routine, as if he were questioning a witness.

  This was not good, Lily thought. He was headed in the wrong direction. So she stepped forward and gently, but firmly, took the pad from Richard’s hands.

  “Stop, Richard. Just stop. You’re not getting
it. John Faust is dangerous. I don’t mean crime-lord, guns-blaring, thugs-on-the-street dangerous. I mean he could kill any of you with a mere thought. I mean he can’t be kept in jail except with specially designed wrought-iron shackles that would negate his magic. He has…plans. What he’s doing he believes is for the greater good, but his reasons don’t matter. I think he will end up hurting a lot of people. He’s already kidnapped my uncle and could be torturing him to death this very instant. I need you to focus on the big picture. I need you to drop the ridiculous charges against my associate Sebastian—you know he didn’t kill that woman, for goodness’ sake—and let him go so he can help me and my allies track down and stop John Faust. Because I promise you, you won’t be able to do it.”

  Richard’s expression turned stubborn. “I can assure you, the FBI—”

  “—has no idea what it’s up against, and you will see to it that it never does,” Lily finished for him, hardening her own expression. “That’s what I and my fellow wizards are here for. We will take care of the magic side of things and make John Faust available to the FBI to prosecute. I am happy to give statements, though I warn you I know very little to nothing about my father’s activities, since I only just met him for the first time since I was two. To find and neutralize John Faust, we need Sebastian.”

  “Is he a wizard, too?” Richard asked, letting the matter go for the moment.

  “No, he’s a witch. I wouldn’t worry about the difference just at the moment.”

  The FBI agent looked like he was about to go cross-eyed. “So, let me get this straight. You expect me to take you at your word that you and a whole subset of the world population can manipulate some energy source that scientists are completely unaware of. It’s dangerous and hard to control, but John LeFay can do terrible things with it. So, of course, we should let a suspected murderer free from jail to join you and your bunch of clueless civilians to go hunt down a powerful, insane, dangerous criminal all by yourselves because the FBI ‘can’t handle’ him. Am I right so far?”